Post by Spark on Mar 11, 2007 20:25:46 GMT -5
Name: Cinnibon
Alliance: Dark
Gender: Stallion
Age: 5
Breed: Arabian
Color: Deep chestnut, black rounding his muzzle, black stockings, and a black mane, tail, and forelock. A tiny white star flecks his forehead.
Height: 17.3 hands
Markings: Cinnibon has black rounding his muzzle, black stockings far up his legs, and a white star upon his forehead. Scars cover his body from past fights.
Personality: This stallion is a trouble-maker. He hates his sister, Bella, for an unknown reason. He rarely feels love or compassion. His hate has made his soul black as night.
History: After he was born and weaned, and able to walk, he chased his sister many a time. Cinnibon would nip at her and rear, thrashing his hooves at her. Bella would run, and he loved the adrenaline (sp?) rush when he chased her and fought at her. Bella usually escaped by running to Mom. That infuriated him. Cinnibon was finally chased off by the herd at a young age because they knew he was dangerous. They knew, and had the common sense to chase him off. Cinnibon roamed the country, having to fight for everything. He had fought grown stallions. He would chase them off, then leave. He liked the adrenaline of a fight, and didn't plan on making a home to settle in. He would always roam territory, fight for it, then leave.
Roleplay Sample: Cinnibon raised his head, the smell of horses on the wind. Hate burned in his black eyes. His hate for horses once again rose in his chest. He stood taller, grunting and snorting in anger. A massive black hoof struck the ground, hard, leaving a deep imprint in the dirt. The stallion reared, his forehooves lashing out as he let out a tremendous whinnie that rang out across the land. It was the call of a stallions challenge.
Cinnibon's only hope was that a lead stallion would come to him. That way, he'd get what he wanted. A fight that included blood and pain. Striking hooves and lashing teeth. It was odd, how this stallion loved a fight, loved the pain and blood, even if it included his. It made him seem slightly psychotic.
The stallion could hear the blood rushing through his ears. His pulse was quickening. His adrenaline was rushing. If he could fight, he would be happy. Cinnibon would stand and wait for his prey. The lead stallion of the nearest herd. He wouldn't rush to the herd, he'd wait for about an hour. And by then, if the stallion hadn't come, he'd rush him. Then the true fight would begin.
Alliance: Dark
Gender: Stallion
Age: 5
Breed: Arabian
Color: Deep chestnut, black rounding his muzzle, black stockings, and a black mane, tail, and forelock. A tiny white star flecks his forehead.
Height: 17.3 hands
Markings: Cinnibon has black rounding his muzzle, black stockings far up his legs, and a white star upon his forehead. Scars cover his body from past fights.
Personality: This stallion is a trouble-maker. He hates his sister, Bella, for an unknown reason. He rarely feels love or compassion. His hate has made his soul black as night.
History: After he was born and weaned, and able to walk, he chased his sister many a time. Cinnibon would nip at her and rear, thrashing his hooves at her. Bella would run, and he loved the adrenaline (sp?) rush when he chased her and fought at her. Bella usually escaped by running to Mom. That infuriated him. Cinnibon was finally chased off by the herd at a young age because they knew he was dangerous. They knew, and had the common sense to chase him off. Cinnibon roamed the country, having to fight for everything. He had fought grown stallions. He would chase them off, then leave. He liked the adrenaline of a fight, and didn't plan on making a home to settle in. He would always roam territory, fight for it, then leave.
Roleplay Sample: Cinnibon raised his head, the smell of horses on the wind. Hate burned in his black eyes. His hate for horses once again rose in his chest. He stood taller, grunting and snorting in anger. A massive black hoof struck the ground, hard, leaving a deep imprint in the dirt. The stallion reared, his forehooves lashing out as he let out a tremendous whinnie that rang out across the land. It was the call of a stallions challenge.
Cinnibon's only hope was that a lead stallion would come to him. That way, he'd get what he wanted. A fight that included blood and pain. Striking hooves and lashing teeth. It was odd, how this stallion loved a fight, loved the pain and blood, even if it included his. It made him seem slightly psychotic.
The stallion could hear the blood rushing through his ears. His pulse was quickening. His adrenaline was rushing. If he could fight, he would be happy. Cinnibon would stand and wait for his prey. The lead stallion of the nearest herd. He wouldn't rush to the herd, he'd wait for about an hour. And by then, if the stallion hadn't come, he'd rush him. Then the true fight would begin.
